Helping Hand
by Susan82
Summary: My attempt at the missing scene from Salvation Sam getting back to the motel after the visions. Hopefully uploaded properly.


Sam struggled to open his eyes as the last images of the vision faded from his mind. He took a deep breath to try to quell the nauseous feeling that threatened to overcome him. Seeing that young mother being pulled up to the ceiling…was that what Jessica went through? Sam pushed the thought away. Jess was gone, but Monica was still alive, and he'd be damned if another child would grow up without a mother.

Sam took a step forward, then fell hard to his knees as the lingering pain sank in it's teeth. With one hand on the ground, and the other holding up his aching head, Sam sat still trying to gather his strength. Sitting back on his haunches he opened his eyes, squinting against the sun. As he glanced at his watch a groan escaped his lips; he was supposed to meet his dad and brother back at the motel in less than ten minutes. Gritting his teeth Sam tried to get to his feet only to fall to the concrete as dizziness continued to assault him. Cursing under his breath, Sam reached for his cell phone. He didn't have to wait long before he heard his brother answer, "Yeah, Sam, what's up?"

Dean sat on the lumpy bed looking over the information he had gathered. When his brother didn't answer his query, he frowned and stood up. "Sam? What's going on?"

Heavy breathing came from the other end, followed by a whispered, "Dean". Dean waited and after a few seconds of silence heard, "Vision."

Dean let out the breath he'd been holding. Running a hand over his face, he sat back down on the bed. "Dammit, Sam, you scared the crap out of me! I thought something happened to you!"

"Dean, please." Sam's voice could barely be heard, and sounded oddly strained. Dean had seen his little brother's state after his pain filled visions ended, but now he sounded even worse than usual. "Come get me, I can't…" Sam's voice broke off.

"Sam. Sam?" Dean yelled into the phone. He listened and could still hear his little brother's labored breathing. "Sam, where are you?" Leaping off of the bed he grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the address Sam gave him. "Sit tight, I'm coming." Grabbing his keys with one hand and his jacket with the other Dean ran out of the motel room.

Hanging up the cell phone Sam let his hand fall to the ground, ignoring the crack of the phone as it hit the sidewalk. His big brother was coming to his rescue once again. Any soreness his wounded pride might have felt was shrouded by the pain in his head. Well, he couldn't just sit here on the sidewalk until Dean go there; it was just dumb luck a passerby didn't see him and wonder what he was up to. Turning his head as slowly as possible he noticed a large tree about 10 yards to his left, but to Sam it might as well have been 100 yards. Moving as slowly as an snail swimming in molasses Sam crawled over to the base of the tree and collapsed against it. Bringing his knees up he leaned his head against them and concentrated on breathing. Sam pressed his hand against his stomach and willed it to settle down. He could deal with his thunderous headache, but it seemed as if his stomach wanted all of the attention. But his head wouldn't back down as he kept seeing Monica being pulled up to her death. As her stomach began to bleed the dark-haired woman morphed into a beautiful young blonde.

Sam felt his eyes fill with tears as he suffered from the pain in his skull and the pain in his heart as he remembered his beloved Jessica burn to death as he lay helpless.

A loud screeching of tires snapped Sam out of his pain filled state as he lifted his head to see the most beautiful sight he could imagine; the door of a black Chevy Impala opening and a jean-clad leg stepping out onto the street.

Dean was out of the door almost before the car came to a stop. He'd spotted Sam immediately, sitting with his back against a large oak tree. He saw Sam lift his head a little, the ghost of a smile touching his lips before lowering his head once more. Dean cautiously approached him, kneeling before his brother. "Sam? You with me?"

Sam slowly raised his eyes to meet Dean's; the eldest blinked in shock as he took in the youngest's condition. Sam's face was as white as a sheet, his eyes bloodshot. He held up his hand to cut off Sam's attempt to speak. "We can chitchat later. First, take these." He held out three pills and a water bottle that he had brought with him. Sam reached out a shaking hand to take them, moving as if he were underwater. A ringing from his pocket took his attention away as Dean took out his phone. After checking the screen, he cleared his throat. "Hey, Dad."

Sam stared at his brother as he listened the one side of the conversation. "Yeah, I know, I'm on my way…No, I'm done, but…No, I'm with him right now…He's ok. Look, I'll explain when we get back to the motel… He had a vision…A vision, Dad, please, we're on our way right now, we'll fill you in when we get back…. Ok, bye."

Dean hung up and looked at Sam. "You ready?"

Whether he was referring to getting up, or to explaining his newfound visions to his father, Sam wasn't sure. He started to nod; thinking better of it, he instead held his hand out to his brother. Dean grasped it and helped Sam to his feet. Sam held onto Dean's arm as he waited to see if his legs were going to grant him the privilege of actually staying upright. After a few seconds passed the two siblings began to walk slowly towards the car.

After making sure he was seating comfortable in the passenger seat, Dean shut the door as gently as he could, wincing as Sam jerked from the noise. "Sorry, Sammy."

As he pulled away from the curb he stole a look at his brother, who was slumped in the passenger seat, his eyes shut and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "You ok?"

Sam blinked a few times, and looked to his left. "No, but I will be." His stomach had calmed itself down a bit, and the pain in his head was at an almost bearable level. He took a deep breath and prepared himself to relive the vision so he could tell Dean what he'd seen. He wondered how Dean would handle it. He didn't know how in the world he was handling it. Actually seeing the demon that had taken the two most important women in his life; he never thought they'd find the thing. "I saw it, Dean. I saw the demon."

A cold silence filled the car as each man struggled with his own thoughts. Dean broke the silence first. "And…?"

"I know who it's going after. I saw it kill her. Just like Mom. Just like Jess." Sam's voice broke on the last word, and he lowered his head to his chest and sighed.

Dean looked over at his suffering brother and bit back the questions that were racing in his mind. "Ok, Sam. Just relax. We're almost back at the motel. We've got Dad, we've got the colt. This son of a bitch is going down tonight."

Sam lifted his head with a bitter laugh. "Dad. Have you told him about my visions?"

"No, it sorta never really came up. Somehow between the vampires and the demon-killing gun, some of the small talk got left by the wayside. 'By the way, your son is dreaming and seeing things that haven't happened yet, and we have no idea why. So, how 'bout them Yankees?'"

"You forgot 'and experiencing horrible migraines.'" Sam answered dryly. "I don't know if I'm up to this."

"You mean the demon, or Dad?" Dean got the reaction he was hoping for as he watched Sam smile.

"Take your pick."

"Well, get ready. We're here." Dean pulled the car into a spot right in front of their room and turned towards his brother. "Don't worry, Sam. Dad will know what to do. This will all be over tonight."

Sam knew his older brother wasn't nearly as confident as he tried to sound, but he was glad for the effort. Rubbing his temples, he groaned as another sharp pain hit him between the eyes.

"Sam?"

His eyes shut, Sam heard the driver's side door open and shut, then his own door be opened. Looking to his right, he saw Dean's hand once again reaching out to help give him assistance. Dean helped his baby brother out of the car and locked eyes with him. Dean gave his hand a hard squeeze before letting go. "Come on, dude, clock's ticking."

As the motel door opened, the two youngest Winchesters walked together towards their father, and, they hoped, towards the peace they had spent decades looking for.


End file.
